Monthly Archives: April 2020

Sunday Supplements, Worship

Bulletin, Sunday, May 3

Here is the bulletin for this Sunday’s online gatherings for the people of St. Dunstan’s. It is the same for the 9am gathering and the 6:30pm gathering.

NOTE: There are TWO versions. The first contains the full text of the reading and is in relatively large print. It fits on four pages. The second is in smaller type, and does not include the reading text. It fits on the front and back of one sideways, folded sheet of paper.

May 3 Bulletin – Complete, 4 pages

May 3 Bulletin – Small Type for printing on single sheet

The link for the Zoom gatherings is available in our weekly E-news, in our Facebook group St. Dunstan’s MadCity, or by emailing Rev. Miranda: .

THREE WAYS TO USE AN ONLINE BULLETIN…

  1. Print it out!
  2. Open the bulletin on one device (smartphone or tablet) while joining Zoom worship on another device (tablet or computer).
  3. On a computer, open the bulletin in a separate browser window or download and open separately, and view it next to your Zoom window.
Coronavirus, Sermons, Spirituality

Sermon, April 26

This morning, I’m taking the opportunity of our online worship to do something that’s harder to do in church – look at some art together. I mentioned last week in the evening gathering that there are wonderful paintings of some of these Easter Gospel stories by the artist Caravaggio, who lived in Italy from 1571 to 1610. Caravaggio’s work represents some rich and wonderful visual exegesis – reflecting on a Scriptural story and drawing meaning out of it by rendering it artistically. 

Here is his painting of our Gospel story from last week – The Incredulity of St. Thomas.

Remember, when the other disciples told him that they had seen Jesus, risen from the dead, while he was not with them, Thomas said, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” In Caravaggio’s image, Jesus is guiding Thomas’s finger into the wound in his side. As much as to say, “If this is what you need, Thomas… let it be so.”

How would you describe the look on Jesus’ face? Unmute & share what you’re seeing, if you’d like – just a word or two. You can do it in Chat, too. How would you describe the feelings on Thomas’s face?….

When you’re looking at a Caravaggio painting, always notice the hands. He paints very expressive hands. Notice Thomas’s left hand. Does that add to how you read his feelings, in this moment? 

All right. Let’s move to this Sunday’s Gospel – another beautiful story of followers of Jesus meeting the risen Christ. Two of the disciples, Jesus’ friends and followers, are leaving Jerusalem – burdened with sadness and disappointment. They had hoped that he would be the one to redeem Israel – to free their nation and people from the degradation of Roman rule, to a new era of freedom and holy strength, like the remembered time of King David. 

But that’s not what happened. Jesus didn’t call the people to him and start a righteous revolution. Instead, the imperial powers and the local powers, Pilate, Herod, and the chief priests, worked it out among themselves to dispose of him. It wasn’t even especially difficult. And now, the great moment of hope and possibility has passed. They’ve heard about the empty tomb and the rumors that maybe Jesus is alive; but still, it feels like everything is over. They might as well go home, and return to the normal lives they abandoned when they joined the Jesus movement. 

We know both their names, by the way, though Luke only names Cleopas. John, in his Gospel, names the women who were standing near the cross – one of them is Mary, the wife of Clopas. 

Clopas and Cleopas are very likely the same name. And it makes all the sense in the world that this was a married couple traveling together, since we know there were women among Jesus’ disciples, and since the story ends at a home they share. 

So, Mary and Cleopas are headed home, sad and weary.  But then a stranger approaches and falls into step with them. He asks them, What are you talking about? And when they tell him, he says, Wait, have you even READ the Scriptures? It was necessary for the Messiah to suffer these things! And as they walk on, the stranger re-interprets Scripture to them, texts of liberation like Exodus and texts of judgment and promise like the Prophets, to show them that passing through death to new life is a story God tells in the world, over and over and over again. 

And then they reach Emmaus. And Mary – I’m sure it was Mary – says, Oh, please stop here with us. It’s getting dark. We don’t have much in the cupboard, but I’ll borrow from a neighbor. Stay. And the stranger agrees to stay. And over their simple shared meal, he takes bread, and blesses it, and breaks it, and gives it to them. And the words and the voice, the way he lifts his hands, the way he meets their eyes when he holds out the bread – suddenly, they see. They recognize. They know. 

Here is Caravaggio’s image of the supper at Emmaus.

You’ll notice that Caravaggio thought both of the disciples on the road to Emmaus were men. What else do you notice?…

A couple of notes: The servant is a self-portrait of Caravaggio. Caravaggio’s Jesus here doesn’t look like a conventional Jesus – he is young and androgynous or even feminine. This is how Caravaggio has interpreted the fact that the disciples didn’t recognize Jesus – he must have looked different in some way. Compare the Jesus in Caravaggio’s painting “The Taking of Christ,” who looks a lot more like “normal” depictions of Jesus.

Then Jesus – disappears. (While he does have a real human body, the Risen Jesus seems to be able to pop in and out of our reality in a new way!) And Cleopas and Mary stare at each other, with understanding and hope dawning on their faces. And they RUSH back to Jerusalem – seven miles by night! – to tell the other disciples what has happened. How Jesus walked with them and talked with them, and was made known to them in the breaking of the bread. 

That phrase may sound familiar! It’s used in one of our Eucharistic prayers, Prayer C. The congregation says it: Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread. It’s also in a beautiful prayer we use in the evenings sometimes, a prayer based on this story: Lord Jesus, stay with us, for evening is at hand and the day is past; be our companion in the way, kindle our hearts, and awaken hope, that we may know you as you are revealed in Scripture and the breaking of bread.

Sharing the Eucharist, breaking bread that is the Body of Christ and sharing it among the fellowship of believers that is also the Body of Christ, is central to our church’s practice. We are fasting from it now, for a season, for the sake of human wellbeing – for one another and for our wider community. I know that fast is really hard for some folks. I’m sorry. We will return to the Eucharistic table, when we have discerned that it’s safe enough, and how to do so with minimal risk. 

The breaking of the bread is a really important moment when we can see and feel and touch the Divine. But it’s far from the only such moment. I love what Mary and Cleopas say to one another: Were not our hearts burning within us, while he was speaking to us on the road? Hours before they recognized their mysterious traveling companion as Jesus Christ, God incarnate, hours before this eucharistic meal, they had the sense that they were hearing something powerful and important and true. I think that’s why they begged the stranger to stay with them. Not just kindness or politeness, but also a sense of connection, possibility, urgency. 

Were not our hearts burning within us? I know what that feels like. That sense of hearing important truth, truth that will change how I think and how I live. Or hearing something that has a call on me. I know the feeling of a deep-down nudge that says, Pay attention. There’s something here. Something that kindles your heart and awakens hope. You’re close to one of the cracks in everything, where the light gets in. I am more or less attuned to those nudges, that strange inner warmth, depending on how well I’ve been sleeping, how hard I’ve been working, how open and present I’m able to be. But I do know that feeling. 

We love gathering at our church building – but we know God doesn’t live there. We love sharing the Body of Christ in Eucharist – but we know that’s not the only place to meet Jesus. We may be all shut up in our homes, but the risen Jesus walks right through locked doors, friends. 

Where is the Holy showing up for you, in these days? Where might the Holy show up for you, if you look, and listen? If you open your heart to expect that even here, even now, God has a word to speak to you, or a gift to offer you, or a mission of love to invite you into? Listen to your heart, friends… notice when it burns within you. 

Response question: Where have you seen or sensed God’s presence, gotten a glimpse or whiff of the Holy, in these days? … 

Worship

Bulletin, April 26

Here is the bulletin for this Sunday’s online gatherings for the people of St. Dunstan’s. It is the same for the 9am gathering and the 6:30pm gathering.

NOTE: There are TWO versions. The first contains the full txt of the reading and is in relatively large print. It fits on four pages. The second is in smaller type, and does not include the reading text. It fits on one sideways, folded sheet of paper.

, one with the reading and prayers included (3 pages), & one “short” version without the reading and prayers (2 pages) that may be convenient if you wish to print it out on the front & back of a single sheet of paper.

April 26 Bulletin – Full version (4 pages)

April 26 Bulletin – One double-sided sheet, small print

The link for the Zoom gatherings is available in our weekly E-news, in our Facebook group St. Dunstan’s MadCity, or by emailing Rev. Miranda: .

THREE WAYS TO USE AN ONLINE BULLETIN…

  1. Print it out!
  2. Open the bulletin on one device (smartphone or tablet) while joining Zoom worship on another device (tablet or computer).
  3. On a computer, open the bulletin in a separate browser window or download and open separately, and view it next to your Zoom window.
Coronavirus, Creation Care

ChurchLands Possibilities, April 2020

2 Comments

In early April, Rev. Miranda and Carrie met with ChurchLands leader Nurya Love Parish over Zoom to discuss how we might think about using our grounds in new ways in light of changed circumstances due to the coronavirus pandemic. (NOTE: If you’re not already familiar with the ChurchLands program, please take a moment to go read this page!)

We noted that many people – both members and non-members – experience our church grounds as holy space and use them accordingly. That led us to some interesting and hopeful questions. How might we be more intentional about inviting members and friends to use our grounds as a place of pilgrimage and prayer, in the months ahead when there may be somewhat more freedom of movement but gatherings are still limited? When we begin to gather again, how might our grounds be a tool for gathering in holy space, when people may not yet feel comfortable coming into the enclosed space of the church building? Might our present circumstances lead us to some experimentation with a long-held desire at St. Dunstan’s for more outdoor, or indoor/outdoor, worship? 

Could hands-on outdoor projects be a way to work together as a church (even if we come and work at separate times) this spring and summer – and if so, what projects would serve the possibilities listed above? (More visible and accessible paths to the Pine Island altar and labyrinth? More wayfinding in the woods?…) 

As Nurya said, Our grounds offer many kinds of possibilities and opportunities. How might this treasured resource take on new purpose and new value for us in this season? 

Creation Care

ChurchLands Report, March 2020

ChurchLands Retreat Report – Sunday, March 1, 2020

In 2020, St. Dunstan’s has been invited to join a year-long pilot program called Churchlands, which is an opportunity to explore how Episcopal churches that own land can begin to relate to land holdings in a way that is more faithful to the Gospel: integrating discipleship, ecology, justice, and health.

Nurya Love Parish – Plainsong Farm; Episcopal food movement

Presiding Bishop Michael Curry:  Inviting Episcopalians into renewed focus on evangelism, reconciliation/justice, and creation care.

CREATION CARE:

King Solomon’s court, 1 Kings 4.

  • What do you notice about this text?
  • Solomon loved nature in the abstract; but what was his relationship with the land like?…
  • “Creation care” often abstract. Emotional, intellectual, or even spiritual connection, without accountability to land in practice.
  • How do we think of land? – free association exercise at retreat.
  • George Washington and the “under their own vine and fig tree” idea – vision of US as land of the smallholder farmer. Land (farmed) as wealth and security. Joshua from our cohort: “This is why there is no old growth forest in Indiana.”
  • “Who is my neighbor?” What is creation? What is care?
  • Eating seasonally, for example, is reconciliation work – reconnecting what has been disconnected.

JUSTICE:

Naboth’s vineyard (1 Kings 21). Dispossession & disconnection.

  • Our local history…
  • Can the land tell the difference between being treated as heritage or commodity? … Living on stolen, grieving land.
  • Cain & Abel – blood crying out from the ground. PFAS pollution, etc…
  • What does repentance and amendment of life look like, for the land? How might our land be a site of, or resource for, justice and reconciliation?
  • How face our own complicity without being paralyzed? Paul: “We are all under the power of sin.”

EVANGELISM:

Nurya: Hunch that there are young adults saying, “I wish I had land and a church that cares,” and churches that say, “I wish we had young adults!”

  • People need to know there are churches where you can love God ad be loved and think and question and believe in science and care urgently about the land.
  • Sozo/Soterio = restoration to safety, soundness, health, well-being.(Book: “Salvation Means Creation Healed”)
  • St Peter’s, Lebanon – Harvest House – teaching ministry: Plant, Prepare, & Preserve. (Freeze dryer)
  • How are land and liturgy separated in our context? How integrated?
  • How might our interaction with our/the land, proclaim our faith?

MIRANDA’S CHURCHLANDS GOAL: Gather a group of at least 5 people, at least 3 times this year, to explore and share vision and develop ideas for how to more deeply connect faith and creation at St. Dunstan’s.

So: Who wants to talk more about this stuff & where it might lead?

How can we imagine creation care, justice and reconciliation, & evangelism on our land? 

Sermons

Gospel and Homily, April 19

The Gospel for April 19, 2020: John 20:19-31

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.”

Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

Homily

The “Doubting” Thomas Gospel is one of the readings that is the same every year – unlike most of our Sunday lessons, which cycle around once in three years. Those repeating texts can be challenging to preach! But this year, this text spoke to me right away – as a text about presence. Not presents with a T, like Christmas presents. Presence with a CE. “The state of being present in a place.” Being somewhere; or, often, being somewhere with someone. Showing up. Being there. thesaurus.com offers only a few synonyms: Nearness. Proximity. Being. Companionship. Company. And then there are some antonyms: Absence. Distance. Remoteness. Confusion. Distress.

Right now, in April of 2020, we have a lot of experience with, and a lot of feelings about, the difference between presence and absence, or presence and distance – and about the shades of presence that are possible for us as we shelter in place. Many of us are keenly missing actual physical presence of friends and loved ones. I’ve seen a rash of posts on social media this week from people saying, Okay, I’m an introvert, and this was fine at first, but it’s not fine anymore…!

Zoom, Facetime, even email and the old-fashioned telephone call – they’re a lot better than nothing. I hear it often in our Zoom church gatherings: people say, It’s so good to see one another’s faces. It’s so good to talk a little about what’s going on in our lives. It’s so good to still feel connected, to feel cared for and to extend care to others. This is presence, of a sort, and it matters. It is sustaining us. It’s so, so very much better than nothing.

But it’s not the same. We are grateful for it; AND there’s no mistaking it for the fullness of actually being able to be in the same room. To see each other’s faces without computer screens in between. To hug, laugh, sing together.

At the same time, in this season, absence takes on an extra weight of concern. Are the people we’re not seeing, doing OK? Are they just busy, or just enjoying the opportunity to join worship anywhere they please? Are they sick or struggling, physically, mentally, spiritually? COVID itself is far from the only threat. Addiction, depression, anxiety, and loneliness lurk close in this time of isolation and distancing.

It’s an interestingly double-edged situation. Some who can’t usually worship with us, now can – whether that’s friends from afar, or members who live close by but can’t easily attend our physical services. That’s a big deal; it’s important and precious.

And: some who usually attend our “IRL” services at church, aren’t attending online. I’m sure that’s for a variety of reasons, but I’m also sure that for some, it’s because the physical, embodied aspects of gathering as a church are what they treasure and need. Making music together. Receiving the Eucharist. Basking in the beauty of a beloved space. Watering the plants. Sharing – or providing! – snacks at coffee hour. Just sitting close to a friend, shoulder to shoulder. Running around having epic stick battles with your friends on the Pine Island.

The phrase “Real Presence” is a churchy shorthand for what Episcopal and Anglican churches say about the Eucharist, or Holy Communion. Our church teaches that Christ is truly present in the bread and wine; they are not just symbols. But we don’t claim to understand exactly how Christ is present; we don’t have that locked down, scientifically or theologically.

Real presence could just as easily be shorthand, right now, for what we’re missing. Sure, there are lots of ways we’re being present for and with one another, from Zoom to phone calls to notecards to sidewalk chalk. But even as we engage in elaborate dances to maintain social distance in the grocery stores, we miss the real presence of our friends and loved ones.

We long to break the taboos that bind us: to be closer than 6 feet. To share a meal. To touch; hold hands; embrace. To breathe the same air – so risky, so precious. Real presence.

The story of Thomas’s encounter with Jesus is important for the Church. It asserts that the risen Jesus is something more substantial than a Zoom avatar. He’s not a ghost; he is embodied. He can pass through locked doors, but he can also eat fish, as Luke tells us. In addition, his humanity is not just a costume. Jesus did not only appear to suffer and die; the blood wasn’t ketchup or chocolate syrup. Jesus has a real body which still bears the marks of what was done to it. These were important points of doctrine for the first Christians and the early church, as they made the bold claim that Jesus Christ has risen bodily from the dead, and promises new life beyond death for all of us.

Father Tom McAlpine, a member of this congregation and friend to many of us, has been writing short, rich, thought-provoking commentaries on the Daily Office readings every day for the past couple of weeks. You can follow along on Facebook by joining the St. Dunstan’s Church Daily Lectionary Group, or on Father Tom’s blog – email me or Father Tom for that address. Earlier this week he posted a quotation from Scripture scholar Richard Hays that speaks directly to why the idea of actual physical resurrection – Jesus’ or ours – is so fundamental.

Hays writes, “The resurrection of the dead is necessary in order to hold creation and redemption together. If there is no resurrection of the dead, God has capriciously abandoned the bodies [God] has given us. The promise of resurrection of the body, however, makes Christian hope concrete and confirms God’s love for the created order… Furthermore, this teaching is consistent with what we have come to understand about the psychosomatic unity of the human person. Contrary to the ideas that held sway in much of Hellenistic antiquity [or, I would add, in a lot of contemporary New Age thinking], we are not ethereal souls imprisoned in bodies. Rather, our identity is bound up inextricably with our bodily existence. If we are to be saved, we must be saved as embodied persons, whatever that may mean…. To affirm the resurrection of the dead is to confess that the God who made us will finally make us whole – spirit, soul, and body.” First Corinthians (Louisville: John Knox, 1997), p. 278.

Bodily resurrection is one of the mysteries, for me. There’s no question that when we die, our bodies decay and go back to the earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Our very atoms are reused as building blocks for new living things. I don’t know what it means for God to promise a new life beyond death that is somehow embodied. It’s one of the things we’ll understand better by and by. But I believe it. I believe.

Thomas longs for – demands – the real, bodily presence of the risen Christ. I’ve long been frustrated with Thomas’s Sunday-school nickname: “Doubting Thomas.” The nickname suggests Thomas was wrong to doubt, when the Scripture itself says that Jesus showed up ready and willing to respond to Thomas’ desire. Yes, Jesus tells him, “Do not doubt, but believe” – WHILE Jesus is literally holding out his hands to Thomas, inviting him to touch the holes left by the nails of his crucifixion.

Thomas’ insistence on touching Jesus – and Jesus’ willingness to offer his real, and really broken, body to Thomas’ hands – asserts, along with so much else in Scripture, that our bodies and our embodiment matter. Touch matters. Woundedness and illness matter. Healing matters. Real presence matters. It all matters, to God and to us.

God, who made us, soul and body, and who has lived in a human body in Jesus Christ, understands that we need one another’s real presence.

And… Notice how this passage ends. The writer of John’s Gospel knows he’s doing something paradoxical here. He is telling the story of someone whose belief was ratified by meeting the risen Christ… to people who will never meet the risen Christ – at least, not in the flesh, the way Thomas did. He’s saying, Thomas didn’t want to believe based on second-hand stories… but you, reader: Please believe, based on second-hand stories. “This is written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God…. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

According to the Gospels, only a few people ever got to meet the risen Jesus in the flesh. After the first weeks, Jesus went on ahead to wherever we go when we’re finished here, and the Eucharist became our primary experience of the real presence of Jesus among us. And during the decades that followed, there were a lot of times in which Christians were limited in even being able to be really present with each other. Travel was difficult, and there were waves of persecution which made it dangerous to gather. The early church by circulating letters, sermon texts, and other written documents. Indirect – second-hand – but enough. Enough to survive. Enough to sustain. Enough to grow.

We may miss one another’s real presence, and the real presence of Christ in our shared Eucharistic meal. But our ancestors in faith knew about keeping in touch across distance; about maintaining faith practices when you have to hunker down for a while; about leaning on our holy stories of healing, redemption, and release to sustain us during hard and fearful times.

“This is written so that you may come to believe ….” John breaks the fourth wall here; he’s talking to US. He’s saying, I know I’m asking you to take this on faith, but truly, truly, there is life with Jesus. There is hope with Jesus. For our bodies as well as our souls.

Stay the course, beloved friends.

Worship

Bulletin, Sunday, April 19

Here is the bulletin for this Sunday’s online gatherings for the people of St. Dunstan’s. It is the same for the 9am gathering and the 6:30pm gathering. NOTE: There are two versions, one with the reading and prayers included (3 pages), & one “short” version without the reading and prayers (2 pages) that may be convenient if you wish to print it out on the front & back of a single sheet of paper.

Full Bulletin, April 19

Shorter Bulletin (2 Pages), April 19

The link for the Zoom gatherings is available in our weekly E-news, in our Facebook group St. Dunstan’s MadCity, or by emailing Rev. Miranda: .

THREE WAYS TO USE AN ONLINE BULLETIN…

  1. Print it out!
  2. Open the bulletin on one device (smartphone or tablet) while joining Zoom worship on another device (tablet or computer).
  3. On a computer, open the bulletin in a separate browser window or download and open separately, and view it next to your Zoom window.
Church Seasons & Holy Days, Coronavirus, Sermons

Holy Week Homilies

HOLY WEEK HOMILIES for Worshiping in Place

The Rev. Miranda Hassett, St. Dunstan’s Episcopal Church, Madison, WI 

Maundy Thursday – Homily for the Anointing of Hands

So, let’s talk about footwashing. That’s usually the “special thing” we do tonight. Footwashing was a significant gesture of service in the ancient Near East, because people’s feet needed care. My daughter and I recently read an article about Roman sewers that contained this line:  “The streets of a Roman city would have been cluttered with dung, vomit, [human waste], garbage, filthy water, rotting vegetables, animal skins and guts, and other refuse from various shops that lined the sidewalks. 

Feet were dirty. And because people mostly wore sandals, feet also took a beating – dry & cracked, often small cuts or injuries. Tending someone’s feet was a real act of humility – usually for those of lowly stature, considering what you’d be washing off. That’s why Peter resists it – he doesn’t want Jesus, his honored friend and teacher, to do this for him. But Jesus says, I need to do this. Because foot washing was a true act of service. Imagine how good it would feel to have your dirty, beaten-up feet gently washed & dried & perhaps anointed with some balm or oil. 

I think foot washing as a church custom is really holy and precious. Even though the context has changed a lot – our streets are pretty clean, and we mostly wear shoes – it’s still powerful and intimate and humbling. But it’s also pretty hard to do as part of a Zoom liturgy. It takes time; it takes setup; it excludes those who are joining us on their own. I encourage you, if you’d like, to wash your feet or one another’s feet after the end of our service tonight, perhaps as kind of a bedtime ritual. It’s a tender, holy gesture.

But what we will do now, as we are gathered, is something different – but I think it’s a fair analogue, for this year, this moment in the life of the world. I’m going to invite you to anoint your hands. Or if you’re here with others, to anoint one another’s hands. Don’t start yet! I’m still talking! 

Anointing hands is different from washing feet. Feet were dirty, and had shameful cultural connotations. Hands are not seen as shameful in our culture, and our hands are all probably REALLY clean. But they may also be dry. Sore. Chapped or cracked. Our hands are bearing the burden of our carefulness. 

In Matthew’s Gospel, almost the last thing that happens before the Last Supper, is that a woman anoints Jesus with scented oil. It’s a gesture of honor – something you do for somebody special – and also a gesture of care. 

So let’s carry all that into this gesture of anointing our hands. Make it a mediation, a sacred pause. Whether you’re tending your own hands or someone else’s… take your time. Be gentle. Be thorough. Thank these hands for their work. Thank them for what they are sacrificing every day, by being washed and washed again until they are dry and scratchy and maybe painful. Thank them for helping keep you safe; helping keep your loved ones safe; helping keep everyone safe. 

There’s a simple prayer you can say – to yourself or to whomever’s hands you are anointing: [Name], I anoint your hands in the name of the One who made you, loves you, and sustains you. 

 

Maundy Thursday – Homily for the Stripping of the Altar 

Let’s remember what we usually do at this time… and describe it for people who haven’t seen it at St. Dunstan’s before.… 

One of the things we do is empty the tabernacle and take the consecrated bread and wine to the Altar of Repose. It’s a place we set aside holy things that we aren’t going to use for a while. Usually a pretty short while – Thursday evening to Saturday evening!

I was talking about Maundy Thursday with a friend, Michael, and she said: Maundy Thursday, and specifically the stripping of the altar, is going to be hard this year because so many people are living through that experience of having things stripped away from them. When we are putting away beautiful, special things that give us delight, Michael said, people will look at that this year and think, That’s not just a symbol. That’s my life. 

Dear ones: What we are doing now is hard, and costly, and important. This thing we are doing together, that’s making us worship through computer screens – It may help keep us safer – my household, your household. That’s certainly one big goal. But It is definitely helping keep our whole community safer. 

It’s hard for us to to see it, but the people who are modeling this epidemic tell us there’s a really direct line between our setting aside all these things for a season, our self-isolation – what a weighty phrase – and saving lives. Lives of people we may know but also lives of people we don’t, because we are all in a web of connection, in ways we maybe didn’t think about a lot before coronavirus. You’ll never know the names of the people who are alive in June because of what you are setting aside right now. But they have names, and lives, and people who love them. 

Staying home, minimizing our contact with others and the outside world, is one of the most Christlike things we may be called upon to do. 

So in few minutes I will strip our symbolic altar. But first, I’d like to take some time for you to create your own Altar of Repose for the things you have set aside for this season. There’s a fancy word for this – renunciation. Things set aside or stop doing for a reason. We have been asked and told to stay home – but we still have a choice about whether & how fully we comply. We do have agency, and we’re using it. 

Take your pens & slips of paper & write or draw some of the things you’re NOT doing right now… your renunciations. Some of the things we miss & are longing to return to. Please include the things that feel trivial, like stopping by a favorite coffeeshop or petting your neighbor’s dog when you meet on a walk! You can just write a word or two;  you’ll know what you mean. Then gather all those slips into your envelope or special container, and set them aside in some special place. We are setting aside beautiful things, lovely things, things that delight and fulfill us. But we will bring them forth again, when the time is right. We will. 

 

Good Friday Homily

This liturgy is hard because it leans into suffering, loss, struggle, and death. This year we are all in that together in a (I hope) unique way. It’s humbling for me as a pastor because I know that Good Friday always hits some people hard. Maybe every year; maybe only in some particular year – it’s all just too close to the bone, this story of betrayal, abuse, indifference, despair, and a lonely, brutal death. 

This year it’s close to the bone for all of us, collectively. And that is strange and raw and hard and holy. This is a day to acknowledge grief at suffering and loss. It’s also a day when the Church says two bold, insistent things: You’re never alone; and death is not the end of the story. You’re never alone because in Jesus Christ, God entered into human experience, even into its darkest depths. God can always find us there, walk with us there. 

My prayer for people in times of profound struggle or pain is not that God will be with them – I believe deeply that God is always as near as our next breath – but that they may have a clear and present sense of God’s presence with them. 

The other thing the church says on Good Friday is that death is not the end of the story. But we mostly say that by saying: Come back tomorrow. This is not the final chapter – as final as those last verses may sound. So: Come back tomorrow. Easter is still coming. 

This is also a day to acknowledge anger. Anger at our common circumstances and all that they are demanding from us, costing us; and anger at those who could have helped it be otherwise. The virus, a product of Nature’s freedom to change and diversify, kills. Human greed, dishonesty, arrogance, short-sightedness and indifference have made its impact, its death toll, so much worse. 

I’ve heard from several members of the parish that you’re really struggling with anger. The process that resulted in going ahead with this week’s election, against all public health advice, was a focal point – but it’s not just that, by any means. 

Many of us have been taught that anger is bad or dangerous – or unChristian. But there’s plenty of anger in the Gospels, and throughout our scriptures. Anger is tricky; it’s easy to deceive ourselves when we’re angry. I know within myself that my capacity to see a just and loving resolution to a situation is not as good when I am angry. But it doesn’t follow that anger is bad. Anger is both natural and necessary. Anger is energy. Energy is good. Anger is willingness to act. Action is good. God loves justice more than we do – and God loves those who will suffer needlessly because of this disease more than we do. Just as we’re not alone in grief, so we are not alone in anger. 

Let’s join our voice with the voice of King David who, three millennia ago, wrote or had written a powerful psalm of indignation, Psalm 10… 

 

Easter Vigil Homily

Does it feel like Easter? Show me with hand motions!  Yes? No? Sorta? Not really? ….  On a scale of one to ten? … 

It’s a strange Easter, for sure. We can’t make a big noise ringing our bells all together.  We can’t share chocolates and fizzy juice after the end of this service. We can’t look at all the beautiful plants around the altar.  We can’t hide and find easter eggs on the church grounds. We can’t prepare beautiful anthems by our singers and instrumental musicians. (Well, we did one last week – but it took some doing! It’s harder to make music together when you can’t BE together!) We can’t cook a big meal to share with guests from near and far. 

Easter could feel kind of small, this year. 

But it helps me to remember that the first Easter was pretty small too. Only a few people knew, at first – and for kind of a while! Jesus rising from the dead didn’t change the world overnight – at least, not in ways most people noticed.  The change was deep and slow and mysterious, beneath the surface of things. We’re still living into that big, slow, deep change, the change in everything made by the first Easter. 

Way back at the beginning of all this, when things were just starting to go quiet, I remember thinking that it felt like Holy Saturday. The Saturday after Good Friday. That’s a time of waiting and preparing, in church….  of quietness and anticipation. We’re still carrying the sadness of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday… but we’re getting ready for the big joy of the Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday. I always feel kind of still inside, on Holy Saturday. And when I would drive around town on that day, it often seemed like kind of a quiet day for everybody. 

That’s why I thought of Holy Saturday, back when things were just starting to be canceled, when people were just starting to stay home. And here we still are – in a really, really long Holy Saturday….! 

There are different ideas about what happened on Holy Saturday, the first Holy Saturday, between when Jesus was laid in the tomb and when his friends found the tomb empty on Sunday morning. 

Some people and some churches imagine Jesus just … resting. Like a child sleeping in their bed or a seed sleeping in the earth. After all, he’d been through a few really hard, demanding days. Resting and healing so that sometime in the early early hours of Easter Morning he … got up. Folded up the grave cloths like a blanket, and walked away… 

Some people and some churches imagine what was happening on Holy Saturday very differently. They don’t picture Jesus lying there quietly. They picture him basically doing a jailbreak. Freeing those who have been held captive in the realm of Death, starting with Adam and Eve, understood as the ancestors of all human beings. Breaking down doors; shattering chains and locks.  This idea is called the Harrowing of Hell. There are lots of images of it – let me show you a good one, from a 12th or 13th century manuscript… 

The big green monster there, that’s Hell or the realm of the dead, imagined as a monster that’s holding all the dead people inside it. The Devil lies tied up at Jesus’ feet. And Jesus, with the help of an angel, is leading Adam and Eve to freedom, to new life in God, and the others will follow them!…. So in this version, Jesus isn’t resting; he’s fighting evil and death, for the sake of new life for all humanity. 

I’ve been thinking about how in this long Holy Saturday we are living through, both of these things are happening.  A lot of us feel a little entombed… like we’re closed up somewhere, just waiting for the right moment to emerge into new life. It might be restful, it might be restless, but we’re closed up, like Jesus in the tomb, like Noah and all the animals in the ark, and we wait. 

But in the meanwhile – others are doing battle with death itself, for the sake of life. Our friends who are health care providers are doing that. Doctors and nurses and hospital staff and all kinds of health care workers – mental and spiritual health too! – all over the country, all over the world, are fighting death, fiercely, day and night, as hard as they can. 

And biologists and epidemiologists and geneticists and statisticians and public health people and all kinds of scholars are putting together information as fast as they can, seeking more and more ways to keep people from getting sick and keep people who DO get sick from getting REALLY sick. 

And then there are mayors and governors and journalists and pastors and public health officials and university administrators and teachers and all kinds of other people who are working so, so hard right now, to make the best decisions they can to keep people safe, and to tell people the best things to do to keep themselves and each other safe.  

There are a LOT of people fighting death! Fighting for life! Right now! They are so brave, and they help me be brave. Even when I’m bored or restless or sad or weary or lonely. 

It is Easter tonight. But it’s also Holy Saturday, the waiting time. It will be Holy Saturday as long as some of us are waiting to come out of our tombs… and some of us are battling the powers of death. We know, tonight, that Jesus is with us, whether we are resting or fighting. 

And whenever we are able to be together again, in the same space: We will have a great big Easter party. No matter when it is! We will celebrate resurrection and new life! We will celebrate that death does not have the last word! We will celebrate release from our confinement! We will celebrate that nothing can separate us from God’s love! I’m looking forward to that party so much, friends. 

Before we continue with the Renewal of baptismal vows, let us pause to hold in prayer all the people, places and situations who are waiting to be able to come forth for a new chapter, like the people and animals on the ark; who are longing for freedom, like God’s people in Egypt; who need God’s healing breath, like the bones in Ezekiel’s vision… Whom are we holding in prayer this Easter night? …. 

Church Seasons & Holy Days, Coronavirus, Worship

Palm Liturgy, April 5

Here is the sheet to download for our Palm Worship, Sunday at 9:15am. We will also use some of this material at our Palm Sunday Vespers, an evening gathering (6:30pm)  for those who can’t join us in the morning.

Palm Liturgy Page 2020

PREPARE:  Sign or banner (on paper, fabric, whatever) proclaiming what you hope God’s new King will do! (Friend of St. Dunstan’s Father Jonathan Melton shares an idea for making a “palm” sign – this is a great option too; watch his video and follow along here!) You could also cut flowers or small branches to wave. The people of Jerusalem used palms because palms grew there. It’s appropriate to use whatever grows in plenty in your environment!

SERVICES
St. Dunstan’s Palm Procession, Zoom, 9:15AM: We’ll gather for the Palm Gospel & some music before our diocesan liturgy. Bring your Palm Sunday banners, signs, and palms (see below)!

Diocesan Worship with Passion Gospel, 10AM: Follow along on Facebook or Youtube. A link to download the bulletin will be sent out later this week.

St. Dunstan’s Palm Sunday Vespers, Zoom, 6:30PM: A simple evening gathering with sharing of palm banners (for those who couldn’t join the morning “virtual procession”) and time to pray together.

Need Zoom links to join our worship? Email Rev. Miranda at or ask to join our parish Facebook group, St. Dunstan’s MadCity. 

Church Seasons & Holy Days, Coronavirus, Worship

Holy Week Worship, 2020

This week is Holy Week, the most important week on the Christian calendar! We WILL hold Holy Week services, online. Scroll down for plans and times. Here are some ideas about preparing for Holy Week.

1. Gather and prepare some things to help you participate in our online liturgies. For each service, below, I suggest some items you might gather or prepare. These suggestions are not meant to feel like an assignment or a burden! Rather, I want us all to feel that we can create holy space wherever we are, and know that we are participants in, rather than viewers of, these special liturgies. Here’s the abbreviated list: Banners/signs & boughs; bread, wine or juice; ointment or balm; envelope, paper, & writing utensils; a cross; a special candle; a bowl of water; snacks and treats; bells & noisemakers. See list of liturgies for more detail.

2. Pray the Stations of the Cross. The Stations of the Cross are a practice of prayer that dwells with Jesus’ journey from his sentencing, until his body was laid in the tomb. You could sit in a quiet place and read and pray the Stations, or you might call them up on a smartphone and take them on a walk with you, pausing to read and pray as you move around your neighborhood. There are many online versions of the Stations. Here is the version we have used in recent years. 

3. With younger children, share the whole story. It’s important for younger kids to be reminded of the whole story before we begin Holy Week – so they know that it eventually has a joyful, triumphant ending. That’s more important than ever, this year! Here are some ways to do that:

HOLY WEEK LITURGIES

MAUNDY THURSDAY, April 9, 6PM
Try to be at the end of your dinner, more or less, at 6pm as we gather online for this service. (But it’s OK if you’re still finishing up!) Consider setting your table nicely and making this a special meal, whatever that means for you right now.  PREPARE:  Please have some bread and some red wine, grape juice, or another special drink set aside on your table, to use in our worship. Please have some ointment or balm for dry skin nearby.*  Please have an envelope (or special box or container), slips of paper that will fit in envelope or container, & writing utensils on hand.

Download the Maundy Thursday bulletin here.

GOOD FRIDAY, April 10, 12PM & 7PM 
PREPARE: Find a cross, or make one; it can be as simple as two sticks and some twine.

Download the Good Friday bulletin here.

GOOD FRIDAY STATIONS for KIDS, April 10, 4PM 
Nothing to gather; just join Rev. Miranda on Zoom! 

EASTER VIGIL, Saturday, April 11, 7PM
We are starting our Vigil early this year so that our younger members can join in the sharing of holy stories. The Vigil should be finished by around 8:30PM.  PREPARE: A special candle to light; a bowl of water (maybe a special bowl?); a special place prepared for listening to holy stories (cozy blankets? snacks? A fire in a fireplace?); Alleluia signs or banners; something that rattles (a container with pebbles or dry beans); bells & noisemakers (keyrings work well); perhaps some treat foods for a feast.

Download the Easter Vigil bulletin here. 

EASTER SUNDAY, April 12
Diocesan Easter liturgy, 10AM, on Youtube and Facebook.

Think about doing something on Easter Sunday that gives you joy and leans into the future. Plant something. Make a time capsule. Watch the sun rise, or set. Go someplace with water and celebrate your baptism. Blow some bubbles!